


Not That Funny

by rsadelle



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-11
Updated: 2002-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom isn't the only one who gets phone messages from Viggo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not That Funny

**Author's Note:**

> Another thing written at work and between classes.

Elijah's eyes lit on Dom's answering machine. "You've got messages." He hit the play button with his usual disregard for other people's space. Viggo's voice echoed through the room. No greeting, just his voice expounding on the color of the sky at sunrise and the perfection of a ripe kiwi.

Elijah's eyes were wider than usual when the tape clicked off. "Does he always leave you messages like that?"

Dom shrugged. "Yeah." He grinned. "He's an artist."

Sean snorted. "He's nuts."

Orlando was inclined to agree with both of them. His first messages from Viggo had been like that one, wandering rambles through any and every subject.

But then it changed. In the middle of one of those messages, Viggo said, "I'd like to see your hands on my cock." It wasn't completely out of context, of course. Viggo had started with a question: "Have you ever read any of my poetry?" Then he'd quoted his own poem: "I couldn't think of anything except his hands." And then he'd said it: "I'd like to see your hands on my cock." Orlando played it three times before he could make himself believe that that was what Viggo was really saying.

Viggo didn't act any different the next day, so neither did he. Nothing changed, at least until the next message. Stronger still, the eroticism of it, not just Viggo's voice anymore, but the things he said. His usual rambling, mostly, but at some point he'd say something like the first message, only more explicit.

"I watched you put on your costume today, and I wanted to taste your come," he said. And: "I want to push you down sometimes, onto your knees, and shove my cock down your throat." And most damning: "Do you think about me when you jerk off? Do you pretend they're my hands on your cock? Do you wish I would come in and take care of you?"

He came home drunk one night when the message light was blinking. He pressed play and Viggo said, "I want to pick you up, your feet dangling in mid-air, and fuck you like that. Nothing but my hands on your ass to keep you from falling."

Drunk, it seemed like a good idea to put the tape in a player and take it with him to his bedroom. He set it to play and rewind and play again. He jerked off to it. He wasn't so drunk that he couldn't get it up, but he was drunk enough that it seemed like he would never come. His orgasm shocked him nearly sober. He immediately felt guilty and erased the tape with his fingers still sticky with come.

He lived in a near-constant state of arousal. Even Atti's best phone sex voice saying, "I'm going to fuck you through the mattress," in German had never made him this hot.

It was Viggo's voice in his ears and Viggo's face in his mind when he jerked off in the shower. Over and over and over again, remembering what it felt like when he could barely come, remembering what it was like to grip his cock and stroke with Viggo's voice talking about fucking him. He felt guilty, but not enough to stop.

He got hard the instant Viggo's voice started to come out of Dom's answering machine. It was a conditioned response by now. Pavlov's dogs heard a bell and salivated. Orlando heard Viggo's voice coming out of an answering machine and got hard. He took deep breaths and tried to calm down. He certainly didn't want Elijah noticing this.

The message had to be one of the last before Viggo went to pick up Henry. Orlando had already listened to his, Viggo telling him how much he wanted Orlando's mouth on his cock.

It was a quiet, lonely time while Henry was visiting. They, the Hobbits and Orli, almost one person sometimes, took Henry with them into the forest to play Cops and Robbers. Orlando, Dom, and Liv took Viggo and Henry to the beach one day. Viggo let Henry try to surf, but only in the calmest waves. They went out for dinner one night, the Fellowship, Liv and Henry, Christine and Alexandra, Lorna and Molly. There was lots to do, and people around all the time. Viggo didn't call.

Henry went home eventually, and Orlando begged off going to the pub that night. He told them he was tired. He tried to tell himself he wasn't going home just to check his messages and wait for Viggo to call.

Viggo knew, had to know, that he hadn't gone. Orlando didn't answer when the phone rang.

"Did you miss my voice? I love having Henry here, but I missed you. I wish you'd been here. In my bed. I could've fucked you when Henry was asleep. On your knees on my bed with me behind me. Are you noisy? I bet you are. I'd put my hand over your mouth with your teeth scraping my skin to keep you quiet. Exene was loud, but I bet you're louder." There was a soft moment of silence. "Are you hard now? I am. My hands are on my cock." There was a click as Viggo hung up.

Orlando shivered. He thought about Viggo fucking him. He thought about Viggo's cock so deep in his throat that he wouldn't be able to taste it. He thought about Viggo's hands on his cock. He closed his eyes and breathed.

Viggo's back door was always unlocked, and he took advantage of that. Viggo was in his bedroom. Naked, on the bed, hands stroking his cock slowly.

Orlando let his clothes fall to the floor and climbed onto the bed. Knees on either side of Viggo's hips. Hands on Viggo's, stopping his motion.

Viggo smiled lazily without opening his eyes. "It took you long enough."

Orlando didn't answer. He pulled Viggo's hands away and slid himself down onto Viggo's cock. That was enough to make Viggo's eyes open. Orlando thought about telling Atti later that he'd put the German lube he kept sending to good use.

"I missed you," Viggo said. His hands slid up Orlando's thighs. Those same large hands curved around his hips and came to rest wrapped loosely around his cock.

"I missed you," Viggo said again, and his hands began to move. Orlando followed them. Up and back and up again, moving against Viggo's hands and cock.

The rhythm that started out slow and steady became fast and jerky. The strangled cry that came from Orlando had Viggo's name in the middle of it. Orlando continued his movements until his name was ripped from Viggo's throat.

Viggo wiped the stickiness from his hands onto Orlando's, and his not-quite-clean fingers wrapped around Orlando's wrists. He pulled Orlando's hands up and cleaned them with his mouth so slowly Orlando thought he might never breathe again.

Viggo seemed to have a thing for his hands. Orlando thought about laughing, but it wasn't really that funny.


End file.
